


Beautiful

by j_gabrielle



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Don't copy this to another site, Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, Jon deserves happiness and I'll write all the fluffy fics I want and you can't stop me, M/M, Mpreg, Romance, off-screen sex, romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-04-07 16:19:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19088635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_gabrielle/pseuds/j_gabrielle
Summary: "Is there something on my face? What?"Jon tries to affect the sternest look he can muster, but when you've got a sleeping babe tied to your back while you're digging up a plot for potatoes, it's not one that comes easily.





	Beautiful

Tormund's watching him again, and Jon bristles a little under the scrutiny. "What?" He stabs his shovel into the ground, throwing him a glare. "Is there something on my face? What?"

Jon tries to affect the sternest look he can muster, but when you've got a sleeping babe tied to your back while you're digging up a plot for potatoes, it's not one that comes easily. 

"You're beautiful," Tormund says. He smiles, wiping the back of a hand over his brow, only succeeding in smearing dirt over his sun-red skin. Jon frowns. Stalking over, he lifts his sleeve and wipes away the sweat and the dirt on Tormund, unresisting when his hand is slipped into a large, work calloused touch. "You're beautiful," He says again, moving his fingers to the delicate shadows under Jon's eyes.

"You're just saying that," Jon shakes his head. He feels a flutter in his chest, heat prickling up the back of his neck that had nothing to do with the sun.

Tormund pulls him close, running his hand down his side, then further down to grope at his ass. Jon yelps, but doesn't get far because Tormund holds him in place. "And I'll say it again and again and again, because each time I say it, it's still true."

Jon swallows tightly. Tormund's hungry eyes stirs something heavy and wanting in him. "The children will be home soon," He whispers, fingers playing at the sweaty, matted hair on Tormund's chest. "We won't--"

"They're not stupid. None of our children are," Tormund shifts his fingers to press between his arse cheeks, teasing with promise. Jon stutters, breath whistling out of him.

"The baby--"

Tormund pauses to look over Jon's shoulder, turning back to him with a quirked eyebrow. "Don't deny me, beloved," Tormund rolls his hips to Jon's. He's hard against him. "Let me have you." 

And really, how could he say no?

They place their baby in his cot, settling him in. They set Ghost to wait outside the door of their room as a guard. The children will just have to fend for themselves because this, this moment is for Jon and Tormund alone.

They wash together with simple wipes of wet cloth from the basin. Just enough to get the worst of the dirt and swear off. Tormund reaches for the cloth before Jon can get too far with it. "Let me," He smiles. His movements are gentle and sweet; careful and reverent like he is a supplicant who only seeks to worship Jon. He lingers on the scars both old and new, and Jon can tell which one pains his beloved and which delights him in some strange way.

He tosses his hair out of his face. Tormund reaches for him, and he curls up against him when the big man sweeps him up in a devouring kiss.

Jon is laid down on their bed with an ease that has him laughing a little into their kiss. They move against each other in slow deliberateness; there is no urgency or fire that must be chased, only each other, moving in harmony and in familiarity. Jon hooks his legs over Tormund's thighs, welcoming him into the cradle of his hips. 

As they kiss, Tormund runs his hands up and down Jon's sides. Making him shudder and sigh and arch into him. He cards his fingers through Tormund's hair, scratching the still warm scalp, and when he feels the rumble of pleasure being licked into his mouth, he merely smiles, and kisses back.

There's an infinite loveliness about being in Tormund's arms; something sublime about setting aside everything, every burden, every disadvantage, and just exist under the weight of the man rocking his cock against his. There is a wonder, that he does not have the means to describe, about being loved like this. 

But he isn't a poet, and pretty words would be lost on Tormund anyways.

"You know," Jon says. "I think we could build another room. Round back where the shed is."

Tormund pauses, and pulls away. "Another room?"

"Yes," Jon licks his lips, biting the inside of his cheek. "For the children. We can't possibly fit all of them in our room, not especially when the new baby comes."

That has the big man's blue eyes going wide in surprise and delight. "You mean--"

"Yes."

"We are--"

"Yes," Jon laughs, cupping his cheek and pulling him down to kiss repeatedly until Tormund rolls him over on top, straddling him. 

Strong hands squeeze his arse cheeks, and Jon's laughter devolves into a gasping moan, and they speak no more but for the sounds lovers make.

"When did you find out?" Tormund asks later, fingers playing at the mess of come between Jon's thighs. He leans over, kissing and nibbling at his chest. Jon tugs at his hair in warning. 

"A few days ago. When I was taking the girls to the river."

Tormund hums in understanding. Jon lets himself be petted and caressed, lulled into a soft relaxed state. In the distance he can hear the children's happy voices playing. The baby begins to fuss.

"Let me," Tormund says. Pulling away from him with a kiss, Jon rolls onto his side, smiling at his beloved and their baby. Naked and backlit with the sun, skin damp with sweat, cock still at half-mast and swaying with the rocking movements he makes to soothe their child, Tormund looks like a primordial god. 

Jon smiles, closing his eyes to sleep awhile.

**Author's Note:**

> I have never, will never, allow any reposting or translations of my works without my permission. All of my works will and shall only be hosted on my personal accounts on AO3 (j_gabrielle), Dreamwidth (j_gabrielle) and Tumblr (randomingoftherandomness, hardheartshere).
> 
> For those who say that I never said anything, it is clearly stated on my AO3 profile bio.
> 
> I do not have a Twitter account.
> 
> I do not have a Wattpad account.
> 
> **Please Do Not Repost My Fics**


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